


Fragmented Memories

by NathanieloftheSky



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathanieloftheSky/pseuds/NathanieloftheSky
Summary: A graveyard, two teens, and a wild chase fuelled by rumours and the subconscious reach towards a life that was once lived.Short and sweet.





	Fragmented Memories

Upon a shallow grave, hooded crows pick at the earth’s grout in an almost rhythmic manner, dancing across shadows the sun’s early morn casts. It is, as it were, a mere fragment of a memory that presses through a matter meant to be forgotten, yet is clung to like the very air that is taken in to give life to the living—stolen, it gives death. Regardless, time goes on and a dream is only a dream lest you ne’er wake.

“Why are we here again?” the teen asked, a puff of air escaping the warmth of his body as he re-wrapped his scarf tight around his neck. His hat began to slip off his head. 

The latter turned around and laughed widely, face bright and warm. He pulled the other’s hat down over his eyes and laughed once more. “Because,  _ Ben _ , I think it's here!”

“Not another ghost, I hope.” Ben sighed, almost fondly. He adjusted his hat and gave the latter an observant glance. “M, where is your coat?” 

“Where my coat will stay.” Another laugh. The dew slicked the bottom of their shoes as the first song of the day rang from the treetops a little ways off. Clouds raced by, laced with gold and pink to introduce the sun to its heavens once more. Their hearts raced, beating almost in sync as they stepped to the rhythm of the calm graveyard. 

“It should be here somewhere. I can feel it.” M peaked his tongue from his lips just barely, concentrating on the inscriptions the rain rubbed out of the stones. 

“I feel something too, but I can't tell if it's hypothermia or death.” Ben laughed stepping next to M.

They looked forward. A crow cried out, quickly escaping where it stood. Something glimmered in the overgrown grass, drawing the two closer. Puzzled, M picked up the object and held it in the palm of his hand. “A ring.” 

With an almost consuming urgency, M pulled the grass out of the ground and tossed it aside, creating a large opening as if the grass itself were the bindings of a book.

“Burned together, bled together, buried together. Two unknown skeletons. These are the ones.”

“What are you talking about?” Ben sat up on the heels of his shoes. 

“Remember how I told you I heard this off rumour that an entire graveyard was dislocated during the building of a hotel?” 

“Yeah, that you claimed was haunted but the only thing haunting was the nose hair of the bartender. Honestly, what is this about?”

“Okay, that was when I was told the bodies were still there, but then I thought what if they were moved? I did some research—”

“No, you?!” 

“And I found a few potential graveyards where they could have been buried.”

“Who?”

“I got another rumour that a there was a particular grave that used to have two hands being held tightly together—two matching rings. The hands were broken by some brat and when the hands fell apart, one of the rings got lost and the other one couldn't come off of the hand. The inscription isn't quite right. Not literal, I mean.”

“Emerson, what is going through your thick skull now?” Ben frowned, staring at the dirt that streaked M’s cheek. It would almost be endearing had M not looked so frightened. The crows gave off another cry, responding to the wind’s call. 

“The hand, look at the hands.” He pointed at the top of the gravestone. One sat in yearning  grasping the air that crumbled cross the smoothed surface. Two fingers remained missing, the cracked pieces looked rough and new, in M’s hand laid the ring. 

“Why is this important?” Ben furrowed his brows, his hand reached out hesitantly as if to take the ring. 

“I have the second one, too.” He fished through his pocket and produced the twin. 

“You've never shown me these before.” Ben mumbled.

“Right.”

“Then why?” 

“What?” 

“Why do they look familiar? What aren't you telling me?” 

“Do you trust me?” M visibly swallowed.

“Without a doubt.” 

“I kept having dreams about this ring and they got worse when I found it. This one, not the one we just found. I am not crazy. I swear I am not crazy. You have to believe me. I just know …” he faltered. 

“Know what?”

“The two lovers buried here … they are us.”

“Have you been hanging around my cousin and his girlfriend lately?” Ben narrowed his eyes. “Raphael has it in his head that he is Romeo and Jenna is Juliet. He had almost the exact same story except he paid half his life for those damn promise rings that were said to be Romeo and Juliet's actual wedding rings.”

“Ben, it's not like that at all—” 

“Because if this is some twisted way of asking me out—” 

“Ben.” 

“Not fair that I—” 

“Ben.” 

“And I—”

“Ben!” M reached over and cupped Ben’s face with his free hand. The latter instinctively grabbed it, unmoving otherwise. M took his thumb and traced it across the edge of his eye, pushing away a few tears that escaped. 

“I'm not trying to play with you heart or be cruel. You  _ know _ I will never do that to you.” he smiled softly, though his eyes revealed the panic behind his words. “This is of my own making and my own theory. And if you don't like it, we can go home. And if I might ask, why did you get so distraught?” 

“What a question to ask.” 

“I'm serious, but you don't have to answer. I just—” 

“No, no, I'll answer. It's because I, for once, can't keep a clear mind. It goes against my entire being to say this, but I think you are right and I am scared.”

“Think about it this way, if I'm right, your cousin will be right also.”

“Oh, dear lord. No thanks.” 

M let out a laugh, leading Ben to join in. Ben reached over and took a ring from his hand. He held it up and M mimicked with a sideways grin.

“Til death ne’er we part.” M said as he slid his ring onto Ben's finger, the latter mirroring.

A heavy weight suddenly filled their chests, as if a scream held stuck within their lungs and weighed them down far more than gravity could ever muster. M clutched his side, glancing at his hand as if there was a substance stuck to his hand. Ben, in the other hand, grabbed hold of M’s arm, pulling him into an embrace. M sobbed,. Mumbling a mantra over and over as if death were imminent and the simple wish to live would be enough to stop it. 

But there was no blood, no wound, no death but that of the dead and the still dead. There were only graves, hooded crows, and two teenage boys who thought it'd be fun to go out in the early morn and find a legend of their own hearts’ yearning. The dead should not linger among the living, that, they would all find out. If it not were for the dreams, the nightmares, whispers of names of both fictitious and archaic nature, and of foreign tongues forgotten to time’s decay, they would believe themselves to be lost among the tides of the in-betweens and once was. Perhaps, dreaming even, as though their final breaths were not consumed by the heat of a summer sun, nor pierced by blade, nor dissolved by poison. 

The story, to be said, neither quite begins nor ends. It is the now, the constant, the is and the are. The story once was skipping children in the starlit streets. It once was the signing to the music of a party once crashed. Perhaps it will be, perhaps not. History will erase what time chooses and so, the bodies never were given names, not even by those who knew. But even as history erases, history repeats. 

Somewhere, when tales of old once reigned true, there will always be a Mercutio and a Benvolio Montague. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did not proofread and posted off of my phone, so if there are any mistakes feel free to message me on the bluescreen of death version of an app about them. It's the quickest way to reach me.  
> I will continue this at request.


End file.
